Six Years Past
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: Six years ago, George left Seattle. Upon his return, he bumps into Izzie in the grocery store and they end up going for coffee where they learn the extent of the pain they've caused one another. AU George/Izzie. Complete.
1. Say It To Me

**Disclaimer: **Clearly I don't own this. Would I be on this site if I did?

**A/n**: AU. Random inspiration from several sources combined, plus a scrap of dialogue that refused to leave my head. _Reeeaaallly_ not sure how I feel about this one, so take this however you will, just let me know what you thought. Alex fans probably won't like it much though – just a warning. Oh, and I'm not explaining anything. You'll just have to piece it together as you go. And this wasn't betaed, so mistakes are all mine. :D

* * *

The day started out relatively ordinary for her. She got up, made her husband breakfast, handed him his lunch and kissed his cheek as he headed out the door. He stopped to apologize once again for the previous night and she forgave him as she always did. Shortly after, she dressed in a long sleeve shirt despite the warm weather outside, grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

Once at the grocery store, she idly browsed up and down the aisles trying to decide what she could and couldn't afford. She tried to differentiate between what she wanted and what she actually needed. She was staring critically at the back of a bag of "Healthy Chips" when he came up cautiously beside her, peering at her with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

"Izzie?"

She was startled and nearly dropped the chips when she heard his voice. "George!" she said in surprise. Her face split into a wide grin. "Oh my goodness, hi!"

He grinned back and set down his basket in order to hug her tight.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Iraq!"

"I am. Well, I was." He answered with a shrug. "I'm on a short leave."

"It's so good to see you." She looked him over and thought about good he looked in uniform though she wasn't sure she liked how short his hair was.

"You too." he said and followed suit, taking a second to look her over as well. He noticed she was wearing little makeup and was wearing old, ill-fitting clothes and she looked very worn down. He figured he must have caught her on a bad day and refrained from commenting.

"So…" She shifted awkwardly. "We have a lot to catch up on."

"Absolutely." He hesitated briefly then asked, "Do you maybe want to go grab a quick coffee or something?"

She glanced down at her shopping cart and then nodded. "Actually, that'd be really nice."

Approximately fifteen or so minutes later, after they had paid for their groceries and stashed them in the back of his beat up Jeep, the pair walked to the nearby coffee shop. She ordered a light mocha with skim milk and extra whip cream and he commented that there was no point in getting the "healthy" choice of skim milk if she was just going to heap on the whip cream. She countered that his double-double with a shot of espresso was hardly any better and he explained that he simply didn't bother trying to be healthy which somehow made it more ok.

The banter between them felt good. It felt like old times and it felt like something that had been missing for so long for each of them was back, like finding a favorite sweatshirt after months of having it lost amongst laundry. As the coffee in their cups dwindled, the conversation slowed and stalled. It wasn't awkward exactly, but there was so much unspoken between that it hung in the air like thick veil. So at first, they stuck to small talk.

"So how has it been in Iraq?" She asked.

"Amazing and life-changing." He answered. "Owen and I make a really great team. He's taught me so much, and being over there is such a different, crazy world. It's nothing like anything here, of course. It's… yeah."

He trailed off with a distant look in his eye that she couldn't quite explain. He took a sip of his coffee and she realized how much older he looked. His face was much less rounded than she remembered; his bright blue eyes somehow a darker, more intense shade. He was changed, she realized. Whatever he saw daily in Iraq changed him deeply.

"So what about you? How's being married?" He asked.

She smiled a little. "Oh, it's nice. Ever since I stopped working at the hospital, I've had so much time for myself. I'm a good little house wife." She laughed. "Things are different than I expected them to be, I think, but it's such a wonderful experience. It's… good."

She trailed off too, with a far away look that he couldn't quite explain. She slowly drank some of her mocha and he realized how much older she looked. She looked weary and dull, not like the girl he remembered. Her beautiful eyes didn't seem as bright and optimistic. She was changed, he realized. Whatever had happened since he left had changed her deeply.

The small talk went on and off for quite some time, until one or both of them were glancing covertly at their watches.

"Well, I better get going." She said and smiled. "He usually calls at lunch to talk and if I'm not home to answer, he gets crusty."

He chuckled but stopped abruptly as she tipped back the last of her coffee and her sleeve slid down her arm revealing a huge bruise. "Holy crap, Iz, what'd you do?"

"Oh, that?" She suddenly averted her eyes and though she replied in a light tone, there was something very wrong. "I'm such a klutz. I was vacuuming yesterday and totally wiped out on the stairs. Got this sucker for my troubles."

He didn't know what to do and didn't know if he had a right to say anything. He'd been gone for almost six years and hadn't talked to in her more than two. He'd moved away from the position of best friend a long time ago and figured he barely counted as an acquaintance anymore.

"You fell?" He questioned cautiously.

"Yeah. No big deal." Her smile was too forced.

He may have been gone for a long time, but he still knew her.

"You didn't fall," He said very softly and looked her straight in the eye. "Did you?"

She started to nod, to protest. But George – her George, her best friend George, the one she could never really lie to, the one she had missed for far too long – was staring back at her. She felt the tears well up. She shook her head only slightly.

"No," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't."

He turned away, trying to suppress his anger. He had no right to feel this way. Not after everything…

"Why'd you marry him?" He asked, abruptly facing her.

She sighed. "George…"

"No, go ahead. I want to know."

"I… he…" She shook her head and thought for moment before answering. "He was there for me. Through the cancer, the miscarriages, Mom's death – everything. He loved me – loves me, and… I thought I could make a happy life with him."

"And have you?"

She looked sharply at him. "Don't you dare, George O'Malley. Don't go there. You don't know what I've been through. You were halfway across the world while I had the hardest six years of my life. You don't get to say anything about what my life is like right now."

A stony silence descended between them for a few moments as she let him digest her words and he tried to come up with a suitable reply. Nothing came, so he simply said,

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." She said in the saddest tone he'd ever heard her use.

He met her eyes again and saw so much pain. His heart ached and it wasn't the first time he regretted leaving for Iraq all that time ago.

"I needed you, George. I needed _you_. Where were you? When I was diagnosed with cancer, you disappeared. I was fighting for my life and you never came." She started to choke on the emotion building in her chest. "I needed you more than anyone and you didn't come."

Somehow he had never realized how deeply he'd hurt her. Sure, Meredith had told him about her depression, but he thought it had to do with the cancer. Cristina had told him about the miscarriages and he'd emailed her his sympathy. The last email he'd received from Izzie was the one about her mother passing away and he told her he wished he could be at the funeral for her. He hadn't comprehended until this moment what he'd done to her.

"I was scared."

"So was I." She said and tears began to slide down her cheeks. "I didn't care if you were scared or angry or upset, I just… After all those years of you always being there for me, through everything, big or small, the one time I needed you above all else, you weren't there."

He reached for her hand. "I wanted to be."

She pulled it away. "Then why weren't you?"

"I tried to be."

"No you didn't." She wiped her eyes forcefully.

It was his turn to speak in a quiet but harsh tone. "Yes, I did. I let you have your space. I let you date Alex even though I hated to see him with you. I _knew_ something was wrong, long before you would admit it. I told Alex something was wrong. He told me – _warned_ me to back off. I told Meredith something was wrong. She told me you would say if something was really wrong. I remembered your birthday when the others didn't and you barely acknowledged me. I told you I was always there for you, that I still cared about you and that you could always tell me anything. And you went and told Cristina about the cancer. I had to find out from Bailey who found out from Cristina."

She swallowed as she listened to him, finally seeing his side of the story. It hardly excused him, and the hurt she'd harbored since he left still felt raw. She hadn't known about him trying to tell Alex and the others of her strange behavior, nor had she realized she'd been so distant from him as she began dating Alex again. How could she not have realized sooner? As she thought back on it, it was painful how poorly she treated her friends, most of all George. She supposed he had a right to use such a bitter tone as he spoke, especially since he seemed to have also been harboring his pain for just as long as she had.

"I was scared I was going to lose you cancer." He continued. "But I was even more scared I had _already_ lost you. I couldn't face you. I couldn't… Dad died from cancer and I couldn't… I was too scared - I was a coward. I let Alex take care of you because I thought that's what _you_ wanted. I stayed away because that's what I thought _you_ wanted. And I left to go to Iraq with Owen before the end of your treatment because I couldn't handle the idea of seeing you dying. I thought if I was far enough away, you would make it through alright with the people you cared about and I could learn to get over you."

He had tears in his eyes now too. They wondered how a wound they both thought they'd healed from felt so fresh at that moment. They stayed like that for several long minutes, staring across the table, lost in memories and drowning in the pain they'd caused one another. How differently their lives had turned out than they had ever thought possible. How far away from each other had they become when they once thought they were inseparable and unstoppable.

He was the first to break eye contact as he turned his gazed downwards to his empty coffee cup.

"I leave to go back tomorrow." He said.

"Oh. Right." She nodded and dried her eyes quickly.

A long pause.

"Well…"

"Yeah…"

"It was good to see you." He said in a low voice, etched with regret.

She matched his tone, emotion for emotion. "You too."

**

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A/n:** I don't know where this came from. It just… came. And wouldn't leave. I would love any feedback/thoughts. Thanks for reading, and reviews are like oxygen. ;)


	2. Say It If It's Worth Savin' Me

**A/n:** So, I got asked by many here and on fanforum for a sequel. I wasn't originally intending to write more, but actually, after I posted it, I ended up getting ideas for a little more. So I think this will end up being three chapters, and then no more. Now, I also want to address something several of you mentioned. I did write Alex as being abusive, as that was the idea that came to me. That is another reason why I labelled this as AU. Besides that, anyone who knows me knows my opinion of Alex, LOL. I have great difficulty writing him in any kind of favorable light. Honestly I personally don't necessarily believe it would come to physical abuse between Alex and Izzie, however, he's proven he's not above verbal abuse. I very, very much appreciate everyone's reviews and feedback, no matter what your opinions! Keep 'em comin'. ;) Oh, and one last note. This chapter contains a_ bunch_ of flashbacks. They're meant to be a bit disjointed and vague. Anyways, here's part 2. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Her husband came home for lunch, which was unusual. Almost the moment he'd entered the kitchen, he was sweeping her up in his arms. She didn't even have a chance to exclaim her surprise that he was home early as he hugged her tight.

"Hey…" she said a little unsurely. It took her a full minute to realize he was shaking. "Hey," she said again and rubbed his back. "What is it?"

He pulled away slightly to look her in the eye. His were red and puffy as though he'd been crying much longer than she'd witnessed. "I fell asleep in the on-call room. And I… I dreamed… oh God it was awful…"

He moved to hug her again and she let him, not understanding where this was going.

"I'm so sorry, Iz. I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," she said, not knowing why he was apologizing.

"It's not." He released her again so he could look at her. "I hurt you last night and I'm sorry."

She sighed slightly. She felt so _tired_… "We already talked about it, Alex. It's over and done with."

"Except for that bruise." He said. "That's twice now that I…"

She didn't reply.

He exhaled with a shuddering breath. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never mean to hurt you."

Her eyes were glistening as she whispered. "But you _do_ hurt me."

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I know. And I'm sorry."

A long silence stretched between them as she stared at the kitchen counter beside them and he stared at their feet.

"Sometimes sorry isn't enough." She finally said and retreated from the room. He was gone less than an hour later, back to the hospital.

* * *

He was speeding at least 20 miles over the speed limit but only a small part of him was aware of the possibility of getting pulled over by a cop. Most of his thoughts were too occupied by the words she'd said to him and the words he'd said to her. Thoughts about how their lives had turned out, memories of how they began.

_Hi, my name's George O'Malley._

_I'm Izzie. Nice to meet you, George. _

He thought about the day he left for Iraq, how he'd stood outside the door to her hospital room for so long and then couldn't go in. Couldn't stand to say goodbye, couldn't stand to see her dying before his eyes, couldn't stand knowing he couldn't save her and that she wanted Alex there more than him. He knew now that she _had_ wanted him there. If only he'd know that then, he would've gone in there. Maybe he wouldn't have gone to Iraq so quickly. Maybe he wouldn't have even considered the opportunity when Owen had brought it up in passing.

_My old commander from Iraq emailed me the other day that there's a shortage of trauma surgeons over there. Said he wanted me back. I don't know if I could ever go back._

_Can I have his email?_

He wasn't paying attention as the car in front of him slowed to exit. He snapped back to reality in time to hit the brakes pretty hard before continuing on as the other car left the freeway. He shook his head as if that would help clear it out. He'd gotten good at pushing things away when he was in Iraq. He was however many miles away which effectively made his problems that far away as well. He could ignore them and he was in contact with her, Meredith and Cristina so seldom that it was easy. He never had to deal with the emotions he'd effectively stockpiled here.

Until now. Now he was here and he'd seen her, talked with her. The emotions and memories he'd worked so hard to carefully shut away were back, pouring over him in a merciless, crushing wave.

_Who's going to hold us together if you're not here? You're the glue. You're George…_

…_I think it's our timing, but I don't think it's our chemistry._

_So you're saying maybe someday?_

_Yeah. Yeah, I'm saying maybe someday…_

_…You think you know someone, know who they are. You share a house and make wishes on eyelashes with them and we don't know each other, none of us. We're just a bunch of interns who work together. There's nothing there…_

_…I just wanna go back to when things were normal, when I wasn't poor Izzie laying on the bathroom floor in her prom dress..._

_…Izzie, you can't help me. I know you want to, but you can't. You can't help me…_

_…I believe that even though you made this mistake you will be okay. I believe we survive, George. I believe that believing we survive... is what makes us survive…_

_…Everytime I look at you... I feel better. It shocks me. It knocks my wind out, but it's true. I don't have to have sex with you, I'd be happy just look at you from across the room. Even that, anything, any piece of you. And, hopefully, all of you... that'd be the best thing. Because I love you..._

_…I can say Hail Marys until... until I turn into Mary, but I still miss you. Not the sex. It was not tragic, George. I will live without it... but I won't make it if you can't be my friend…_

_…You know, you can't say that you weren't warned. Alex has always been Alex…_

_…Just because people do horrible things... it doesn't always mean they are horrible people._

_…But because I'm your best friend, because I love you, I also have to say... that I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I can't promise a future, I can't promise perfection, because we're us, I'm me and you're you. no one knows what will happen. But in my heart, I am sure. I'm in love with you George. And I hope you're in love with me too..._

_…I've been keeping my distance because you're with Alex, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm still here. I still care…_

…_I'm in love with this incredible guy and we're having problems. And my best friend, he would know what to say to me about it. I need to be able to talk to my best friend. I cannot get through this without my best friend..._

…_You know, whenever anyone says something really funny and I laugh I always look around to see if you think it's funny too. Even when you are not there, I look around…_

… _Maybe it's the fact that I asked Izzie a hundred times what was wrong, and she just ignored me. And then there's the fact that when she actually needed help she trusted Cristina. Of all people!_

_And then there's the fact that she's your best friend and she might die on you…_

…_I cannot get through this without my best friend..._

…_I love you too…_

…_I cannot get through this…_

…_You gonna tell me about Patient X?..._

…_I cannot…_

He was drowning, he couldn't breathe, couldn't see. He pulled over sharply onto the wide shoulder, causing a vehicle behind him to swerve into the next lane and curse him with their car horn and middle finger. He didn't notice as he threw open the door and gasped for breath. Tears fought their way out of him and splashed down his face.

Several minutes later he felt like he could breathe again and shut the car door. He didn't get back on the freeway just yet, however. He reached into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulled a very worn photograph of a smiling blonde with her head pressed against his head.

_You know what?_

_What?_

_You are my best friend, George O'Malley._

_Well that's good, because I'd have to say you're mine too._

_She jumped up from the couch and dashes from the room._

_Izzie? Did I say something wrong?_

_She came running in with an old-school Polaroid camera in her hands._

_What's that for?_

_To take a picture!_

_Obviously. What for?_

_To mark the day when we officially became best friends._

_The flash was blinding and when the picture developed, she laughed, a loud, wonderful sound._

_Your smile is crooked._

_Yeah, well your eyes are all squinting because you're smiling so big._

_Here, you keep this one and we'll take another one for me._

He slumped forward on the steering wheel, holding the photograph tight. The image of the bruise on her arm came into focus behind his eyelids. How could Alex hurt her? How could anyone ever hurt her? Beautiful, wonderful Isobel Stevens who he continued to love despite everything, despite six years of forcing himself to try and forget her.

_I needed you more than anyone and you didn't come._

He hit the steering wheel with his fists until they throbbed. With another look at the photograph through watery eyes, he knew. This time, he would come.

* * *

**A/n**: Yes, there's one line in there that George actually said to Callie but I'm using it here and pretending he said it to Izzie. :P ANY an ALL reviews are loved! Thanks for reading - the conclusion coming soon.


	3. And I'll Leave This Life Behind Me

**A/n:** Here's the conclusion! This is the real end, there will be no more after this. Thank you to every single person who has read this and especially to those who left a review. Remember this is AU, and the way I've been writing it is _supposed_ to make it a bit vague and fill-in-the-blanks-ish. ;) Mistakes are mine - this is unbetaed. Enjoy the conclusion.

* * *

By this point, her eyes were dry. She'd changed into her favorite old t-shirt and was wearing her most comfortable slippers as she shuffled into the living room with a book in her hand. Before she had a chance to settle on the couch, however, there was a loud knock at the door. She tossed the paperback onto the coffee table and hurried to answer the door.

"George!" she exclaimed upon opening it. "What are you… I thought you were going to the airport?"

"I was." he said.

"Aren't you going to miss your plane?"

"I'll catch another one." He hesitated. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." She gestured inside and he cautiously entered.

"Is, um… is Alex here?"

She shook her head.

A long pause stretched between them. He shifted awkwardly.

"Why are you here, George?" she finally asked.

"I, uh, I…" He chuckled humorlessly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't really know."

Another long pause.

"Did you… want something to drink?" she offered.

"No thanks."

"Did you want to sit down?" she tried instead.

"Sure."

They moved the soft blue couch and sat down side by side without getting too close or too far away. Neither said anything for a solid few minutes.

She studied him, trying to guess what he was thinking. She used to be so good at it. Now she couldn't tell. It didn't help that he seemed unable to look her in the eye.

Finally he turned to her.

"Where did it go, Iz?" he asked. "Your… undying optimism, that burning fire inside you... Your desire to defy the odds? Where'd it all go?"

It was her who couldn't meet his eyes now. She looked down at her lap. "I've been through a lot, George. A lot of terrible things. I lost it somewhere. Somewhere between the cancer and the fighting with Alex and… somewhere, it faded away." She tried to swallow the emotion rising in her throat. "And I'm so… _tired_. Day in and day out, it's always the same thing. The same… pointless things. We fight about everything and I cry and we apologize and… _years_ it's been like this. I just… don't know what I'm doing anymore."

As she swiped at the moisture collecting in her eyes, his gaze landed on that bruise on her arm. He clenched his jaw tight and once again hated Alex for what he'd done to her. She saw where he was looking and dropped her arm.

"How often does he…?" He trailed off.

"Twice." She whispered.

He shook his head. "That's twice too many."

"I know." She replied. "Last night we were having a really bad fight. It got out of control. He pushed me, I pushed back, and then he pushed a little hard. I fell backwards and hit the dresser."

His fist curled. _How could he, how _could_ he…_

"He didn't mean to."

"Doesn't matter." He said firmly. "Shouldn't have ever happened. I would never… I would…" He swallowed hard.

She watched him battle several emotions and felt the urge to touch his face and turn it towards her. She tried to ignore the feeling as it grew quiet again between them.

"He's off running the hospital." She commented softly. "And I'm stuck here. I gave up my job years ago but I never should have. I'm not out there saving lives, doing what I love... and now it's too late to change that. I'm out of practice. I stay in this house all day, my friends have all moved on in their lives. I'm here. Trapped. Trapped in this dark little box, this dark little life… and it's all my fault. My choices brought me here and I think… I think I made the wrong ones."

He reached for her hand and unlike in the coffee shop, she didn't pull away this time. As soon as he touched her, something happened. Old feelings rushed through them.

He thought of the time when his father was in surgery and she'd held his hand while they waited for news.

She thought of the time she'd had to listen to an old voicemail left by her deceased fiancé and he held her hand while she listened and cried.

He thought of the times she told him he'd made a mistake with his marriage to Callie and how he never listened but knew she was right.

She thought of the times he'd told her Alex was not good enough for her and how she never listened but wished she had.

He remembered the many nights they stayed awake late into the night, curled up together on the couch downstairs watching a movie and went to work the next day exhausted.

She remembered the many nights they stayed up late talking on the couch downstairs and came into work the following morning with dark circles under their eyes.

He leaned forward slightly, his pulse racing. He recalled vividly the moment when she'd tied his tie before Cristina's wedding and confessed that she loved him.

She leaned forward just a bit as well as she remembered the moment when he'd said he loved her too.

They were inches away as they both thought of all the passionate kisses they'd shared and the love they'd put on hold for reasons they could no longer remember.

He swallowed. "Come with me." He whispered.

There were a million reasons to say no. She was married, she had a home and some sort of life here. She couldn't just drop everything...

Except that, in truth, she hated it here. The life she had, if she could call it that, was draining her. She fought with her husband - the one who loved her but she did not love back - daily, she had no job, her friends had all moved on. The more she thought about it, the more she found no real reason to stay.

She held his hand tight, like a lifeline in a storm, as if silently screaming for him to never let go or else she'd drown. He held tight back, making it clear he wasn't going anywhere without her again.

"Okay."

* * *

As his Jeep sped down the freeway towards the airport, the exhaustion she always felt so acutely slowly began to melt away the farther away from her home that they got. He was holding her hand again and for the first time in a very long time, she felt safe and deeply cared for in a way only he could make her feel. In the back seat was a small suitcase into which she'd tossed her favorite clothes and some of her most precious possessions.

On top was a faded and much-folded old Polaroid snapshot of herself with her head pressed against the head of a young man with bright blue eyes and a crooked smile.

**  
-end-

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****A/n: **And that's it. Thanks for reading, any and all reviews are always welcome. :) Later!


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